


Resume or Restart

by Raccoonfg



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Addiction, Cyberpunk, Gen, Memories, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Virtual Reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 15:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7807558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raccoonfg/pseuds/Raccoonfg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why live in the present, when you could live in the past?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resume or Restart

**Author's Note:**

> The following short story was written for /trash/'s Thematic Thursday event; Cyberpunk (08/18/16)

“Something wrong?”

“Hm?” Nick shook his head and straightened his posture; Judy caught him daydreaming again.

She always does.

“You barely touched your food,” Judy pointed her fork at Nick’s plate, still covered in the fresh vegetable medley and steamed rice that he ordered. “Is it okay?”

Nick chuckled at her sincerity; it always brought a smile to his face. “No Judy, it’s fine. I was just thinking about something, that’s all.” He then scooped up a portion of his steaming meal, and gave her a reassuring wink as he popped it in his mouth. It wasn’t the first time he ordered this dish, and it probably wouldn’t be the last time either, but he still made sure to savor every last bit that touched his tongue. In this moment, it was the most perfect meal he could ever have.

“I still can’t believe you managed to get us a table here,” Judy mused while she worked her fork around the carrot and noodle stir fry she had ordered. The look on her face was a gentle awe as she glanced around the surroundings of the rooftop restaurant they were dining at. Soft piano music wafted through the open-air patio, while waiters deftly moved from table to table, serving all the content and well-dressed guests. The stars above were their ambience; the city lights their décor. The evening was perfect. Just like it was supposed to be.

Just how it should always be.

“Honestly, Nick,” Judy sighed and raised her own forkful of food to her lips, “this must have cost you a fortune.”

“Anything for you, Judy,” Nick crooned, looking deeply into her eyes, losing himself in those two violet gems. “Besides, I--”

“Know a guy?” Judy finished for him, and then giggled as she slid the dollop of noodles into her mouth.

“Heh. Got me again, Judy,” he let out gentle laugh and scraped up another helping of his rice. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the current time displayed on the tall tower several blocks away from the building they sat on.

It was almost ten o’clock.

The moment he was anticipating would arrive soon, and while he had prepared himself for this countless times, he still felt so nervous and choked up as he reached into his pants pocket and wrapped his paw around the small velvet box within.

“J-Judy?” He struggled to keep himself calm. It had to be perfect. Just like it always played out in his head. “Listen Judy, I, ah… I have to ask you something…”

Judy looked up from her plate and the expression of perplexed innocence that was on her face nearly caused Nick to break into tears. The box in his pocket seemed heavier than lead as he pulled it out. He wished he could take his time; just have a little more room to make it right, but it was almost ten o’clock.

It was now or never.

“What is it Nick?” Judy asked with a bemused smile, and then shock overtook her when she saw the box that he was holding. She stifled a gasp under her paw as Nick slowly started to open it, revealing the ring inside.

“Judith Laverne Hopps, will you--”

And then without warning, Nick’s vision faded away, leaving him in darkness.

 

* * *

 

“For crying out loud!” Nick growled as he practically tore the headset off his face. He was close to tossing the thing across the living room in anger, but his self control prevailed as he knew deep down that he couldn’t afford a replacement. Not to mention that he also ran the risk of damaging his cranial jacks if the connectors where yanked out so violently.

So instead he loosened his arm, dropped the heavy visor to his lap, and sat there while his eyes readjusted to the natural lighting of his apartment. The yellowed luminescence and stale air stung his eyes even as he carefully plucked the wires out of the slots behind his ears. The hollow noise of each plug being removed elicited a grimace from him; he could never get used to the idea that he was extracting inch-long pieces of metal from his skull, but it wasn’t like he had any alternatives; you work with the tech you can afford.

Once he finished unhooking himself, he placed his gear on the table next to him, and slowly lifted himself off the vinyl chair he had been laying in this entire time. The dampness of his hide had dried to an adhesive-like residue, sticking him to the chair’s upholstery, which made rising to his feet feel like he was peeling off a body-length band-aid. Then came the stiffness of his legs and spine; every joint and muscle below his ribs groaned and popped as he stumbled forward and stretched the rust off.

After popping a few kinks in his neck, he turned to the simulation unit’s mainframe, which wasn’t dully humming like it should when operational. He had a pretty good idea that it was the recall buffer again; the damned things keep blowing out more often these days. Not that it should have come to any surprise, considering he’d been buying one of the cheapest brands lately to extend what dwindling income he had remaining.

Nick slowly lumbered towards the mainframe, which sat in the corner against the living room wall, with strips of cracked and peeling wallpaper dangling around it. He hit the diagnostic test button and scanned over the various parts and slots of the monolithic device while it beeped, whirred, and lit up little green lights where all the hardware tested positive.

All except the loading bay for the recall buffer.

“Knew it,” Nick grumbled, and he reached down into the dingy, stained cardboard box that sat next to the mainframe, producing a replacement buffer that was still wrapped in a static-proof bag. The fortunate thing about buying these cheaper parts was that they sold them in bulk.

He never did that math, but he was pretty sure he still came out ahead, cost wise.

He then went through the now familiar process of popping out the old buffer, sliding in the replacement, locking it, and hitting the restart button on the mainframe. A small blue LED display flickered to life.

_**IMPROPER SYSTEM SHUTDOWN HAD OCCURRED** _

_**SYSTEM RECOVERY REQUIRED** _

_**RESTART IN SAFE MODE? Y/N** _

Nick gritted his teeth and angrily mashed the ‘N’ key. It was bad enough he had to wait for the system recovery, but Safe Mode would only make it a longer wait to get back in, and he simply did not have the patience for that.

Still, knowing that he was stuck waiting on the restore Nick decided he should probably take care of a little personal maintenance during the downtime, so he headed off to the bathroom to relieve himself.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been since his last break between sessions, but if the ongoing stream of urine was any indicator, it had been a significantly long time. The system’s vitals monitoring application was supposed to track and alert Nick of recommended break periods, but he had long ago disabled it, as even the bi-hourly reminders were too frequent for his liking. More time out here meant less time in there, and that wasn’t a compromise he was willing to make.

Shaking off the remaining droplets with the twitch of a leg, Nick zipped up and shuffled over to the sink to wash off. He could still feel a stinging in his eyes, so once his paws were washed, he turned the tap to cold and splashed some water on his face to alleviate the irritation. When he raised his head to let the water drip off his fur, he caught a glimpse of his worn face in the dirty vanity mirror and almost didn’t recognize himself. His fur seemed more faded than he recalled, and the hide around his muzzle sagged a little. Worst of all was his eyes; the area around the sockets was swollen and puffy; the once bright emerald eyes of his better days were dim and bloodshot.

‘Simul-face’ was the word he had heard mammals call it when prolonged visor use affected the eyes. He didn’t believe it would happen to him, and yet his own reflection presented the contrary.

But what did he care? How he looked out here didn’t matter when he was in there.

Nick sneered at the mirror, only to take notice of the filth that encrusted his teeth. After probing a claw under his cracked lips, he relented to take a moment to rinse off his frayed toothbrush and ran it over his crusty choppers in a vain attempt to clean out the unknown days of grime that had caked on. The end result wasn’t exactly a set of perfect pearls, but his mouth at least tasted a little less like old paste.

Having handled what little hygiene he deemed necessary, he walked back over to the mainframe to check its progress.

_**SYSTEM RECOVERY – 63% COMPLETE** _

Nick let out an impatient huff and grumbled over what else he could do to occupy the remaining minutes. A painful gurgle in his belly made the winning suggestion, so he ambled over the kitchenette that adjoined the living room and opened the fridge to see what there was to eat.

It had clearly been a while since he had last cleaned out his fridge, as all the perishable items had spoiled and blackened with mold. But Nick really didn’t have the time to bother with annoying tasks like that right now.

He’d get back to it later.

Some other time.

He still had around half a dozen tall cans of SustenAll in the fridge, and those pretty much covered everything he really needed to get through the day. He withdrew one of the cans, cracked it open, and tilted it to his lips. The thick grey liquid slowly poured out, coating his tongue with its chalky taste. It was nasty and unappealing when he started using the stuff, but it was simple, and cheap.

Cheap was good.

Cheap meant that he had more money to spend on the important things, like electricity or replacement parts for the mainframe and interface rig; things he couldn’t do without.

Halfway through the can, he lowered it and glanced at the phone console on his counter-top. Through the layer of dust that covered the digital display it was still blinking at thirty-eight new messages. Though, they weren’t really new, just unlistened to. He didn’t even really need to bother playing them; Nick already knew what each one would be about.

Just checking on you…

Haven’t heard from you…

We’re worried about you…

“Feh,” Nick snorted, and took another swig of his dinner.

Or was it lunch?

He was certain it wasn’t breakfast; it was still bright out when he last went in.

Whenever that was.

The mainframe was still making the usual cacophony of clicking that came with the restore, so he continued to pace around aimlessly, sipping back portions of the remaining SustenAll.

Passing by his front door, one of his feet bumped into the undisturbed pile of letters that lain on the floor. He raised his foot over them and used it to shuffle the stack around. It was the usual assortment of junk mail, bills, past dues, and--

He paused for a moment, now noticing that beneath the heap was a copy of The Zootopia Free Press; pretty much the only publication that was still available in print these days. He wasn’t sure how long it had been sitting there, as the ink was fairly faded, but he could still read the headline as clear as day.

_15 Years Later: Remembering the Tragedy At--_

Nick angrily kicked at the mound of paper, scattering letters and leaflets all over the floor; tossing the offensive newspaper against the door with a soft smack.

He didn’t NEED to remember any tragedy.

He didn’t NEED to remember anything that he didn’t want to.

What he NEEDED was to relax.

What he NEEDED was to feel better.

What he NEEDED…

WAS.

TO.

GET.

BACK.

IN.

Nick suddenly felt a stabbing pain in one of his paws, and realized that in his wrath he had crushed the can of SustenAll too tightly that the aluminum metal was jutting into his skin. He loosed his grip a little and tried to slowly calm himself down.

Soon the anger subsided.

Soon the anger gave way to calmness.

The calmness turned to emptiness.

The emptiness turned to longing.

To sadness.

To pain.

_**BEE~DEEP!** _

He was almost on the verge of breaking down when he heard that wonderful little chirp come from the mainframe, causing his heart to skip a beat. It was like a songbird of deliverance; come to announce that all would be well.

The system restore was finally complete.

Tossing the can aside, Nick bounded over to the humming tower to make sure he didn’t imagine it, and the LED display proclaimed just want he had been dying to see this entire time.

_**MEMORY SIMULATION SYSTEM ONLINE** _

_**WAITING FOR INPUT** _

Nick couldn’t have rushed back to his chair any faster; not even if he was a cub on Christmas. Settling back in his seat, he started to replace the neural jacks back into his skull, one by one. Despite the discomfort he felt when removing them earlier, he felt an almost perverse enjoyment from inserting them back in. With each plug, chills of pleasure ran down his spine. He still sensed some soreness in his injured paw as he lifted the headset over his face, but he knew that soon it would fade away once he got the relief that he truly needed.

With a soft click, the visor locked into place, and the screen sprung to life, displaying a simple message.

_**RESUME OR RESTART?** _

Nick sat there staring at the silent prompt, weighing out his options, just like every time he had to deal with interruptions like this. And after a moment, he raised his right paw, extended a finger, mumbled “It was almost over anyways,” and tapped RESTART.

 

* * *

 

“Look, you probably can't read, fox,” the elephant looming over Nick roughly slammed down the shop’s service policy on the counter, “but the sign says ‘we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone!’” He then jabbed his trunk towards the door for emphasis. “So beat it.”

“You’re holding up the line,” grumbled the lady pachyderm behind him, and on cue Finnick started his crying child act to try and break down the resolve of the ice cream vendor.

Back in that moment, Nick was so focused on not screwing up this hustle, he couldn’t afford to break his concentration.

But that was then.

Every time since he started reliving this memory, his mind was always on what would come next.

Each second was filled with the anticipation for her to show up and change everything. To brighten his day.

“Hello.” Nick turned and saw her for the first time all over again; all bright eyed and optimistic in her silly little meter maid getup. With a simple “excuse me,” Judy stepped back into his life and made everything better.

She always does.

**Author's Note:**

> I almost never leave an author's footnote with my works, but in this case I felt the need.  
> The story you have read was inspired by another sci-fi short that I had conceived almost a decade ago but never properly wrote, which was titled The Man Who Fixed Everything and dealt with time travel as a metaphor for drug addiction, and while I may still properly write that original story some day, the theme of cyberpunk and the idea of virtual reality simulating past memories felt like a great opportunity to revisit that idea.
> 
> And while I generally regard any of my Thematic Thursday entries to be stand-alone one-shots, this one actually has me interested in possibly expanding on with another chapter or two.  
> I'm not making any promises, but it could happen.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
